• He closed his eyes breathing heavy as though he was dying. No.. he really was dying. A slow, painful death. No sound reached his ears, despite the music that was screaming at him to weak up. What a ridiculous demand. Death was a one way ticket. There was no turning back from that. Yet, it refused to come. It would just tease him with its scythe, but no more than that. Somehow, life in despair seemed endless as though God Himself made fun of him. He just wanted it to end. Something really horrible must he have done but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Why so much anguish ? Why this ache in his heart ? Rhetorical questions only a fool would ask. He was a fool, wasn’t he ?
  
  His reflection stared menacingly back at him. It could fade away any minute now. That’s what he’s been telling himself for six years now. Six years since he first boarded this exact same train. Nothing had changed. White light still blinded him in the nothingness of the night, the train would still shake sometimes from one side to the other, animating the corpse that he was. It would still stop at exact times allowing him to smoke a cigarette or two. On rare ocassions he was able to see something more than train tracks beyond his own reflection. You could say it was the same eternal night. If only that was true... life would still make sense. He would have expectations and hopes and their songs would feel the same way. He, definitely, was a fool.
  
  The train finally reached its destintation creaking as it slowly stopped fifty miles away from where she used to be. Past lived inside of him. Who knew in what corner of the world she was now. He crawled in absolute bleakness ever since they parted ways. Hearing her voice once again was beyond his ragged strength. Maybe she was somewhere happy with someone that could really take care of her. He did not know and he did not want to have knowledge of such things. He couldn’t bear a thought like that quenching his fantasies. That’s why he would take this trip, once, every single year. To feel the same way when they... Oh, they...
  
  It was still dark when he stepped onto the station’s wet pavement. A cigarette sizzled as the lighter’s small flame touched it. Just a glimmer in the fading murk. He absently crossed the bridge that went over the tracks. With some luck, a train would maybe shatter him into mllions of pieces. None the less, it wasn’t time for that yet. He didn’t feel ready. That might as well be the reason why he was still breathing. Hardly, but breathing. Minutes slowly drowned into eternity as more cigarettes sizzled. He didn’t think of anything. A piano casted echos into his soul making it tremble and shriek on the inside. His soul.. seemingly he still had one. There was a time when he thought she took it all away. Not willingly, of course.
  
  He stepped into the other train, merely being able to open the doors. It was completly empty. Never has it been empty before. He couldn’t care less, though. Maybe it was a sign. A sign that time had finally come to do what he had long waited to. His eyes were locked on that same old clock when the train finally began to move slowly, an old man, filled with regret, waiting to die alone. He was one with it. What a ridiculous cliche. There was no better resemblance in the whole world, though. Looking out on the window the wet landscapes began to change slowly. He passed near the wide gray fields and then the hills and low mountains covered with pale green forests of fir. Oh God, he was slowly getting closer and closer as though that wreck of a train was reluctant to bring him home. Nevertheless, he wasn’t afraid. He had rooted fear out of himself long ago. He knew now what had to be done. He jumped out in the cold looking at the same building that hadn’t changed a bit. What if he called her ? Right then, right there. Fool, you fool ! She had probably long forgotten him. Not that remembering him would make any difference. What could she feel, if not hate or coldness ?
  
  Rain was passivly falling from the gray sky when he saw the park before him. The ground was wet and muddy. Like always. He sat on that wooden bench under the firs’ crown. Sad day. Back then he didn’t care though. He was the happiest man alive. Joy. Long forgotten feeling. He suddenly saw a squirell fussing around him. What kind of sick joke was God making ? He couldn’t take it anymore so he slowly raised and took the same slender path he came on. Then he made a quick turn, walking through that small desolate town, just him and his injured mind. When he entered the cafeteria he first noticed people that day. He ordered a tea and then went up on the stairs. He sat on the corner of the table as usually. It was so dark and quite. He still had the pictures they took there.
  
  He pulled out a piece of paper and stared at it for a few minutes. Steam raised from the tea as it remained untouched. Quivering, he wrote down a few words. “You are the only exception”. Small tears rolled down his face. He started folding an origami swan from that piece of paper with his hands still trembling. He pulled the silver medalion from his neck and put it over the small swan. It was finally home. After all this time...
  
  
  ...
  
  
  The train was roaring as it rapidly approached. The ground beneath was shaking roughly. And there it was. He was laying on the tracks. His mind was a mournful empty field surrounded by burning flames. No thoughts ran through it now. He didn’t even hear that loud, almost pleading, buzz.
  
  “God have mercy upon my soul.”

• Ai scris foarte frumos si sunt sigura ca ce ai scris nu este doar o poveste din mintea ta. E ceva mai mult. E emotionanta si trista.
  Nu am nimic de comentat decat ca ai folosit prea mult o chestie:
  "It wasn’t time for that yet, though."
  "He couldn’t care less, though."
  "There was no better resemblance in the whole world, though."
  "He wasn’t afraid, though."
  Nu stiu, cand am citit, mi s-a parut deranjant sa vad incontinuu "though" la sfarsitul propozitiilor. In fine, e doar parerea mea.
  Hmm. Mereu ai avut o viziune asupra mortii destul de ciudata si schimbatoare. In fine, nu doar asta, ci si viata in sine. Ti-am zis asta si ieri si acum o spun pentru ca la asta m-am gandit cand am citit:
  "He absently crossed the bridge that went over the tracks. With some luck, a train would maybe shatter him into mllions of pieces." si "God have mercy upon my soul."
  Cum am spus, ce ai scris e foarte frumos si poate iesi o poveste minunata, daca asta intentionezi - daca ai vrut doar sa scrii asta, fara sa o continui, atunci felicitari oricum, pentru ca e superb.

(22 Feb 2012, 23:59)Isabella River Wrote: Nu am nimic de comentat decat ca ai folosit prea mult o chestie:

• ^Doesn't matter, poti continua actiunea foarte bine - daca te refereai ca nu poti continua - pentru ca ai putea continua sa povesti totul ca pe niste amintiri, exact acum ai facut pana acum.